The Ring Around The Moon
by GhibliGirl91
Summary: Ichigo was created not born, and doesn't understand complex human emotions, he's innocent. But once cast out, he is found by Rukia Kuchiki who takes him in, cares for him and saves him from the darkness. Inspired by that fantastic Halloween cover pic.
1. Chapter 1

**Don't own Bleach or Frankenstein**

**Inspired by that fantastic Halloween title page, this is Ichigo as Frankenstein's monster (or a version of him anyway) Frankenstein being a book which I also read recently and one that broke my heart a little.**

Ring Around the Moon

_When there is a ring around the moon, it means bad luck is coming, death very often._

These were the only words Ichigo could recall Tessai speaking to him. There was a ring around the moon tonight and Ichigo was hoping to God that the burly man's prediction would come true.

It had been nearly three weeks that he had been out here alone in the woods, and not all of them had been nice like this. Some had been bitterly cold, biting at his half bare body. Some had been wet and he had been forced to shiver in a forest cave like a rat. He knew he had cried some nights, at being so alone, but the emotion was familiar to him now. As the wind picked up he wrapped his arms around himself and felt tears slide down his face again.

It wasn't his fault. Technically he was still just a child. Less than a year, but it still made him feel weak that he couldn't be a man and match up to his immense stature and protect himself.

Because there was no one here to protect him now.

In the past months he would have been asleep in his siblings' rooms by now. Jinta and Ururu were his master's children and he was their protector and their friend. He looked up to them and they taught him what they knew, especially little Ururu who seemed to relish having a student to care for. She helped him to read and write, chicken scratch and children's stories mostly, but he was so proud of his progress and she had been too. He remembered her giving him his own book which she read to him because it was a little complicated. If those children wanted to play, he was willing and if they wanted to work or have him do something then he would do whatever they asked. For the space of a few months he had been so happy.

Then the crowd had come.

They had fire and sharp weapons. Ichigo saw them and knew instinctively that he needed to fight. He had bared his teeth and roared but this had the opposite effect. Instead of leaving the crowd surged in. Ichigo could still see the flames of their torches jumping high as Tessai and Urahara faced them all, swords drawn. The mob was so large. He, in his limited life, had never seen such a crowd and it scared him. As they saw him they began to scream and shout at his 'father'.

"_It's the creation we've come for, Urahara. Destroy it and we'll leave."_

"_I can't. He has a life now and it isn't down to us to decide whether he lives or dies."_

"_It's an abomination! You created him from our dead!"_

"_I did no such thing."_

"_Liar."_

"_Desecrator."_

"_Blasphemer!"_

The screams had cut Ichigo as he realised they were talking about him. Knowing that he was putting his family in danger, he turned and sprinted through the back door.

He was scared, more so than he had ever been as he ran hither and thither, deeper and further into the woods. By the time he tripped and fell, he was freezing, bleeding and lost. He had crawled under a tree and hidden. Of course it wasn't helped that he was terrified of the dark. But he was used to it now.

There was something else Ichigo had realised in the time he had been out here.

He was hideous.

He held no bones about it. On the third day he had caught sight of a pair of trappers who were eating a rabbit they had caught. He had stumbled towards them, clutching his wounded leg but upon seeing him they had leapt up, screaming and run. He hadn't understood, only felt scared himself and used their dying fire to warm himself. He had also eaten the rest of their rabbit. He wouldn't have. The thought of consuming another animal had made him sick but he was just _so _hungry.

Then he wandered on.

Sometime later he beheld himself in a pool of water. And was disgusted by what he saw. He was disgusting; not at all similar to the bright eyed children he had assumed himself to be like. No, his eyes were dull yellow, his skin slightly waxen and puckered with puffy stitches, while his hair was a violent orange colour. He had cast himself back from the surface in despair then covered his face and crawled back to his bed of damp leaves. No wonder those people wanted to kill him. He _was _an abomination. If his family was dead then it was entirely his fault.

That was the first night he wept.

Now it was three weeks later. He knew that if Urahara was alright then he surely would have found him by now so he had all but given up hope. Ichigo didn't know that Tessai's prediction was only superstition and so he waited for death, with quiet hope that soon it would be finished.

Even if daemons came to drag him away it was better than being all alone. But as darkness crept in, Ichigo saw something in the darkness. The glow of windows.

Could it be? Had he found home? He rose and stumbled through the rough brambles, ignoring them tearing at his skin until he saw a tiny cottage. But it wasn't his.

Ichigo never thought his heart could feel as if it had disappeared but in that second it did. He crouched in the bushes and put his face in his hands. Then there was a strange tug in his body, something he might have named as curiosity, and he crept toward the window.

It was light inside, a fire and a small cot, a trunk, and a small table adorned the inside. There was just one room but it had been made a home. Ichigo reached up and stroked one long finger down the cold glass, as if trying to touch the warmth of the room.

"Hello?"

Ichigo spun round and jumped. There was a child there. She was regarding him, with wood in her arms. Ichigo did the only thing he could, he ran. But his foot connected with a log and he fell. Landing heavily and biting his tongue, he tasted blood and gritted his teeth to keep from crying out in pain. Still a few, tears squeezed out from under his screwed up eyes and ran down the sides of his face.

"Hey, are you alright?" said the same voice from before. He felt a hand strike his shoulder and reacted on instinct.

"Please don't hurt me!"

"Wha-"

Ichigo rolled over and shielded himself with his arms.

"Please!"

There was a light sound that sounded like the bubble of a river, or the ring of bells. It was a laugh.

"I'm not going to hurt you, you idiot. What would make you think that?"

Ichigo lowered his arms and looked up at the face.

_Oh..._

He had heard that with death came angels. Did this mean death was here for him too? Above him stood a female. He knew now she was no child, her body was shaped like Urahara's occasional guest Miss Yoruichi, not quite as strongly accented but noticeable. He reached up and put a hand on her hip, running it up her waist and over her ribs to her breast. Then she slapped him, _hard. _ Immediately he recoiled.

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to...its just, you're a woman. I didn't know."

"Oh well thank you very much." She snapped.

"You don't sound too thankful."

There was a pause. "No, I was being sarcastic."

"Oh." It was his turn to stop. "What's that?"

For a second she gazed with incredulity down at him then put her hands on her hips.

"You are joking right?"

"No. My sister never taught me about sarcasm. I only learned to read and write."

She scoffed.

"Oh don't be ridiculous, how old are you?"

Ichigo was silent before he muttered, "Not that old."

He shivered as the wind gusted through the clearing at the front of the house. It was quite wide all around the house apart from the bramble bushes which he had hidden behind. Again she reached out a hand and for a moment Ichigo thought that he would be hit again. He flinched and she paused.

"Don't worry I won't hurt you I promise." And she stroked her hand against his arm. "Oh Gods you are frozen. Come inside."

"No!"

Her brow knitted. He could see so in the light from the window. She looked confused; whenever he looked like that he had to have things explained so Ichigo did.

"Y-You won't like me in the light."

"What? Why not?"

"B-Because I'm ugly."

"What? You ridiculous creature! No one can dislike a person truly just for being a bit ugly."

"You don't understand." he stuttered out. "People are frightened when they see me."

"Well I've been talking to you for five minutes and I'm fine."

"You haven't seen my face." He countered.

"Don't need to." She snapped right back. "Your voice is enough. You seem okay, and believe me; I know how to take care of myself. Even if you try something I'll be fine."

"Try something?"

"Well I'm a young woman, living alone."

"I'm afraid I don't understand." He intoned looking up at her.

"Well, I mean you might try to take advantage."

"What of?" He heard an exasperated sigh.

"Of me and my body?"

"What about it?"

Another sigh but he really didn't understand what he was saying wrong. She spoke again before he could ask.

"Can I ask, just where you have been? Because you don't seem to know a hell of a lot."

He was a bit insulted at this.

"Hey! My sister taught me stuff. I've been learning with her since the day I was born."

He decided to stand up too. It was cold and he was getting stiff on the ground. Agile, he leapt to his feet, coming up to his full seven feet in height. She moved back quickly and Ichigo's heart fell but soon her voice returned to him and it was welcome. His angel.

"Wow, you are...quite something." She breathed as she looked at him.

"You're not scared?" he whispered. Daring to hope.

"No, of course not." And she went to her door. "Come on in."

Still he hung back.

"Um, ma'am, please don't look at me, when I come into the house."

"What's the deal?" She asked, "Of course I have to look at you. The place is too damn tiny to not look at you."

He shifted uncomfortably.

"Okay."

She moved inside and began to throw her logs on the fire. The flames illuminated the walls as Ichigo stepped over the thresh and felt warm prickle his skin for the first time since she had run away.

But then she turned around. She turned around and screamed.

He recoiled and turned to run but just as he put his foot outside the door, a small hand grasped his elbow. He felt his pulse hammering underneath the skin and the coolness of her finger tips. She was so pretty he felt almost bad for looking at her with his horrible face, for making her look at him. He turned back and peered at her hand on him.

"I'm sorry." She said, sincerity clear in her tone. "You just made me jump. You're so tall."

He looked at her. Her eyes were lying but they also pleaded with him. What were they saying? He knew one thing. He would have stayed forever and a day if she would just look at him with those eyes until she couldn't look any more. They were as liquid sapphires."

"Angels have lovely eyes." He said solemnly.

"What?" she said, half laughing but didn't wait for an answer, "Come on, sit down." She smiled and tugged on his arm. "I'll make you some nettle tea and we'll clean you up."

"Huh?"

"You're covered in scratches. We need to wash them. I have a bath you can use."

Ichigo did understand this. He had been allowed a weekly bath at Urahara's, they used to be on Wednesdays but he had lost count of the days now so there was really no use in refusing, plus he was cold and a bath was warm, he was dirty and a bath would clean him, he really wanted one.

"Alright." He said quietly, and watched as she proceeded to bustle around. Get water, heat it, smile as he shunted forward to the fire and curled up tightly to stay out of the way, like a little boy would do.

"It might be a bit small for you." She said as he trailed his hand in the metal bath which she was filling with water from the boiling pot. The pump was outside and after the third journey he offered to go so she let him. In no time, the steaming water was ready.

"Alright pants off." She barked. Ichigo obediently did so and climbed into the water. It was just right, and even though he displaced a lot of the water and had to bunch up his legs, it felt perfect. Silently she knelt beside the tub, and taking a small bowl began to pour warm bath water over his shoulders. He took it from her and poured it over his head, then shook it out like a dog. His angel began to laugh as she shielded herself from the deluge and he joined in. His laugh was something he hadn't heard in so long and he had missed it. She stopped laughing suddenly.

"I've just realised, you haven't told me your name."

Ichigo looked at her, and then smiled, and she was struck with the beauty of it. That was a child's smile. Despite the face it was set in. His eyes glowed with happiness as he looked at her.

"It's Ichigo." He said.

"Ichigo." She spun out. "That's a good name. It means 'One who protects' doesn't it?"

Ichigo looked confused, "I didn't know names could mean something."

"Oh yes," she said, "Mine means 'ray of light'."

_Just like an angel_. He thought.

"What is it?"

"Rukia." She said with a smile. "Rukia Kuchiki."

-----

Ichigo got out of the bath and Rukia graciously turned her back while he dried off, though he didn't know why.

"Finished?" she asked, turning around. He nodded, pulling on the loose cloth pants that she had left out for him. They were so soft compared to the things he had been wearing for the last month. They only came to the middle of his calf but they were warm and washed, unfortunately she couldn't find a jerkin that would fit him.

As she knelt by his feet bandaging them, for they were cut and bruised from his time in the forest, she eyed his scars.

"What are they from?" she asked, indicating the lines of risen flesh.

Ichigo looked down and blinked, "Oh that's from my master, he used them to put me together." He clenched his teeth. "That's why they came after me. They said I was made out of dead people."

Rukia froze by his feet.

"You what?" she hissed and Ichigo flinched.

"You...what you're made of?" she looked sickened.

"Ichigo pulled his feet back from her and pulled his knees up again."

"They killed my family." He whimpered, "The people who took care of me. They chased me and threatened to kill me. I was so frightened. I thought I would die, I wanted to."

A tear rolled down his cheek. "Do you hate me too?" he asked pathetically, looking up. "I thought you were my angel sent to save me."

Rukia was staring at him, pale as death. "A-angel?" she stuttered.

"Yeah, Tessai said that when there is a ring around the moon, death is coming. I thought you were the one to deliver it."

Rukia's heart melted.

"Of course I'm not!" she cried and he flinched again. But then she cast herself on him and wrapped her arms around him. He tightened.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh please tell me you've been hugged before."

"Is that what that is?"

A tear ran down her face but a large finger caught it and held it up to the light.

"Angels shouldn't cry."

"I'm not an angel Ichigo."

"But you saved me."

"Did I?"

"Yes, I was so lonely, and then you came and saved me. Am I allowed to die now please?"

Rukia gasped softly as she saw the hopeful gaze. He actually wanted to go.

"Ichigo. The moon, that's only a story. You don't have to die."

He looked puzzled. He had that adorable, semi scowl on his face that said, 'I really don't understand.'

"The ring around the moon; you don't _have_ to die. It's only a folk tale. You can live."

Then his face crumpled.

"But I shouldn't even be alive. I want to die. That's what the people said. They called me an abomination."

Rukia scowled.

"You are not! You are alive! You live and breathe don't you?" she put a hand on his chest and felt the steady thud of his heart. He turned a little red and dropped his head to hide his eyes. Rukia's own heart went out to him and she reached forward and raised his chin. "Do you feel, Ichigo?" and she leaned forward and pressed her lips lightly against his.

-----

Ichigo's mind had gone numb. Was this what he had been waiting for? It was so warm and nice. There was a heat in his chest and a heady feeling swirling around his mind. He leaned against her until he felt her pull back. Then he rested his head on her shoulder. He tried it again with her collar bone, it smelled so nice. Like wool and wood smoke, plus flowers and cleanliness. He kissed her skin again and felt as if something was unwinding within him. All at once he wanted to grasp at her and never let her go. Was this what Urahara had said he was too young to know when he had asked about Miss Yoruichi? He didn't know why. It was lovely.

But too soon he felt her push on his shoulders.

"Stop Ichigo."

"Why?"

"Because this....lovers do this."

"What are lovers?"

"Oh for crying out loud."

"Huh?"

"Doesn't matter. Look I can't be kissing you when I haven't known you that long. Can you understand?"

Ichigo was disappointed but nodded. She seemed intensely relieved. But then he leaned forward and kissed her once more. And this time she leaned into him, breathing in as she did so, so he could feel her tiny chest filling with air.

"Ah, Ichigo. No more. I've known you for less than an evening."

Ichigo pulled away and hung his head again.

"Sorry, it just felt nice. You won't send me away will you? I like it here."

"No of course I won't." She said quickly and he looked up.

"That means I can stay with you?"

"Yes." She said confused that he would look so hopeful. "Of course you can."

He grinned widely at her, once again making his terrible scars unnoticeable in the dancing firelight.

"Thank you."

"Welcome."

She rose and began to build him a bed. "You can sleep by the fire. Its warmest there."

"Thank you." He said again, seeming genuinely thrilled as she layered blankets and found him a pillow. When she was done he tentatively crawled into it and put his head on the pillow. He watched sideways as Rukia took off her shoes and climbed into her own bed, still fully clothed. They lay in silence for a long time. He could tell she was still awake, she just wasn't saying anything.

"Rukia?"

"Yes Ichigo?"

"Can I stay tomorrow?"

A heart beat, "You can stay for as long as you need to."

"Oh." Another second of silence. "Rukia?"

"Yes?" she was starting to sound annoyed.

"Will you touch my lips again? You know, like lovers do?"

Another tenth of a second.

"Maybe, Ichigo. When I get to know you better."

"Oh." He stared at the back of her head and all her pretty black hair which shimmered in the light. "I like rice."

"What?" she asked, sitting bolt upright. He sat up too.

"Just, that's something to know about me."

She stared at him, then burst out laughing and lay back down.

"Go to sleep Ichigo." She said, and he could hear the smile in her voice.

"Okay Rukia."

_My stars,_

_My moon,_

_My angel..._

-----

**While freezing my butt off in my garden (Halloween party with family and friends) this just came to me. So I hashed it out, I've been lying here typing for two hours. (Now thankfully inside)**

**I realise Ichigo is pretty OOC for this but he's supposed to be a new born creature and he hasn't seen as much of the pain that canon Ichigo has. He's still relatively innocent hence the rather naive attitude of referring to Rukia as an angel.**

**Does this have the potential to be multi chaptered? Please tell me. Even if not, REVIEW! It's what I live and breathe for.**

**HAPPY HALLOWEEN LOVIES!**


	2. Chapter 2

**I felt I owed this to you guys. Especially after the MONSTER review sesh you had for chapter one! 20!! I wasn't expecting that at all. But thank you XD You are all lovely.**

**Not gonna lie, there were a few low points and I'm not totally thrilled with the end results. I never understood what people meant when they said they weren't happy with it, but I do now. It was because I had to sort of push it into existance. So this one is kind of a filler and I didn't really **_**feel **_**it (Yeesh that sounded pretentious) But I wanted to give this to you guys before I changed my mind. But hey, you can give me tips!**

**Oh and this one is loooooooooooooooooong!**

**Don't own Bleach, wish I did though.**

**Amendment: I re-wrote a little of it, Rukia has some powers but not many...yet. I just didn't like cutting that possibilty off, we'll see how it goes :D**

**------**

_Cold, cold, cold! Bloody, bloody cold!_

Rukia's teeth chattered as she pulled on thick woollen stockings under her blankets. Gods, she hoped it would warm up. It was freezing! Why wasn't her fire heating the house? Had it gone out? She looked across to the hearth where she had laid a fire just yesterday and...

_Oh._

A large figure lay, curled up, under blankets by the fire which was still smouldering but whose creeping tendrils of warmth hadn't reached her.

_Is he absorbing it all?_

Ichigo took that moment to roll onto his back in a tangle of covers and yawn before spreading himself out like a hearthrug and pulling the blanket up over his body again. At once, Rukia felt a wave of warm air whisk over her and she leaned into it with a sigh. Yes, that was it then. She would have to sort that problem out.

_I guess you've decided he's staying then? Did you think that through?_

_Yes, exactly the same way you thought through kissing him, stupid. _

_No! No, I was just proving a point._

_Or have you just been alone too long?_

_You're having a conversation with yourself; of course you've been alone too long!_

Ichigo rolled over and muttered something in his sleep. Rukia looked across at him and rubbed her neck, feeling guilty. Had she taken advantage of him last night? He seemed nothing more than a child and she had leapt on him like some kind of succubus. She looked at his sleeping form before getting up and crossing over to him, stepping over his large body, and leaned down over the fire, reaching for the poker, prodding the fire until the smouldering remains of the charcoal broke open and lay there like cakes of gold, waves of heat rolling over the surface. Quickly though, they faded to red and then became lifeless, despite her poking. She growled and stabbed the metal tool into the ashes, frustrated.

_Witches are supposed to be able to light fires with their minds aren't they?_

She poked the fire savagely again, then, scowling, she turned around to see a pair of frightened amber eyes staring up at her.

******-----**

Ichigo felt like warm cobwebs had crossed his skin. He cracked open an eye and saw, for the first time in a long time, a ceiling instead of the sky. He blinked. His head lolled to the side. And he beheld the figure of Rukia, in a grey dress, who had just stepped over him and was now picking up a...metal poker. As he felt his stomach clench in fear, she thrust it forward into the fire, burying the tip deep in the ash, which released a little plume of sparks. She was half muttering to herself, a sort of constant low hush, half formed words that tumbled over each other and he could hear the irritation in them.

What had he done? She stabbed at the fire a couple of times before spinning around and meeting his gaze. He was still lying down as he gazed up at her, tense and frightened, while she gripped the poker and swung it up over her shoulder. He flinched and closed his eyes, waiting for the blow. But heard only a clink as the poker was set down and then again, the feeling of warm cobwebs brushing over his shoulder, he realised this time it was the hem of her skirts.

"Do you want some breakfast?" said a low voice.

He opened his eyes again and looked up at her. She was looking down at him, head tilted to one side, but her eyes were closed off and cold.

"Um..."

"I've only got porridge and bread. We need water for it. Will you get some?"

"I-"

She picked up the bucket and thrust it at him. He caught it and clutched it to his bare chest, the metal rim pressed to his heart. She raised an eyebrow as he continued to sit there, looking nonplussed and nervous.

"Well go!" she snapped.

It was like someone had flicked a birch switch against his legs. He scrambled to his feet and ran out the door to the pump. Twigs and leaf mulch worked into the fresh bandages around his feet and his breath clouded and swelled in front of him as he approached the black handle of the pump.

On the first attempt the water barely came out at all, then too much and knocked over the bucket. Ichigo glanced back at the door before picking it up and trying again, holding it this time. He didn't want to make her angrier with him.

With a full bucket, at last, he half walked, half ran back to the cottage. Rukia was building a new fire. She was piling up wood and tied bunches of bracken and laying it on the remains of the old. She didn't notice him, so he walked up behind her holding the bucket. When she sensed him she jumped and spun around almost knocking it from his hands.

With an annoyed 'chk' sound she took it from him and put it down next to her, then went back to the fire. Ichigo stood still for a moment before she shot him a look and he went to sit down before the table where there were now some bowls and a loaf of bread. He was so hungry, but looking at Rukia, seeing her angry movements as she stoked the flames, he thought it might be better just to wait. Even though his stomach growled impatiently he held back and instead watched her making the porridge.

-----

Rukia stirred the milk and water furiously, beside her a bowl of oats waited to be added and some currants she had procured last month for flavour, beside them. The milky water began to simmer and so she took the bowl and poured them into the cast iron pot. As the smell of warm porridge filled her nostrils she felt her anger beginning to dissipate and be replaced instead by a sore feeling in her heart. It took her a moment to understand that she was feeling lonely. Scoffing quietly she threw the currants in with more than the necessary force and stirred faster.

When they were piping hot she wrapped the handle in a towel and took it off the fire. Ichigo was huddled by the window, head bowed, shoulders hunched. He was doing that thing where he tried to make himself look as small as possible. It wasn't working. Her eyes softened marginally when she looked at him. He still looked nervous but then his tummy growled again and he shifted uncomfortably. With a small smile that he couldn't see she poured porridge into his bowl and her own then put down the pan and began to slice bread.

------

Ichigo looked at his plate carefully, instead of at her. Her chin rested in her hand and she stared out the window. Even though his food smelled good he was too nervous to eat it.

_Ask her,_ his subconscious whispered. _No._

_Ask her, ask her, ask her!_

"Rukia." He said, then bit his lip. She turned a little but didn't break her gaze from the window.

"What's, um, what's wrong?"

Then she looked at him.

"You look unhappy."

"Well, maybe I am."

She turned back and continued to gaze solemnly from the window.

"Are you angry at me for something?"

She jumped and looked at him again.

"Ichigo!" she cried, "No, of course I'm not! Oh I'm sorry, this is just me; I put myself in a bad mood and took it out on you. I'm sorry."

"Oh."

Ichigo hesitated for a moment, then put out one of his hands and covered her delicate white fingers with his own. She jumped and looked down at him before drawing her hand away. Ichigo flushed, he shouldn't have done it. She would definitely be angry now.

"Aren't you chilly?" she asked nodding at his body.

"No. I'm used to the cold," he said, looking at his food.

"Well eat up," she said nodding to his food, "We can't sit around all day."

Ichigo's brow furrowed and Rukia couldn't help but chuckle, it made him look like a puzzled puppy.

"Ichigo, I can't just have you stay here, eat food, sleep, borrow clothes, you'll need to help me."

"Oh."

"Yes, oh don't worry. I only need you to help me chop wood and things."

"Oh."

"What have you never chopped wood before?"

Ichigo looked away; he didn't want to tell her he hadn't. Tessai had always taken care of that. They had a complicated heater which Urahara had procured from an old acquaintance, he wasn't sure but Ichigo had an idea that the acquaintance hadn't been too thrilled about letting it go. Whatever the story was, Ichigo had never been allowed near the fancy cooker. Tessai had always been the one to load it and bring fuel, which was only partly wood anyway. Some of it was chemicals. He realised at this point that Rukia was trying to get his attention. He looked up. She was smiling at him now.

"Ichigo, have you or haven't you ever chopped wood?"

Ichigo looked at his plate.

"No."

"Right, good, finally. Now eat up, we'll go out and I'll show you how."

She smiled wider when his eyes met hers looking excited and grateful, but still he couldn't help but think she looked a little sad.

-----

One of Rukia's cloaks skimmed the back of his legs. It was far too short but it was wool and it was keeping him warm. Winter was almost at its end, or it should be. Ichigo knew he was about seven months old and his master made him in high July. That meant that winter was coming to an end. Soon it would be spring. Ichigo hadn't seen spring. He had been looking forward to it, Ururu told him it was beautiful.

Rukia was tramping in front of him, breathing heavily in the cold. Her breath appeared in little puffs before her, white clouds of warmth that Ichigo tried to pass his hands through when they disappeared into the air.

She had the axe in her hand and was looking carefully at the floor to make sure she didn't trip. Finally they reached what they had been heading too. A cut down tree in the middle of a clearing; there were wounds in the side that showed where branches had been cut off and a large stump with axe marks on its ringed surface where she had been using it as a platform to cut up smaller logs. Rukia raise the axe and slammed it hard in the tree trunk where it stuck. Then she turned to Ichigo, hands on hips and a purposeful look on her face.

"You ready?"

Ichigo nodded so she bent over and picked up a small log and set it on its end on the stump where the tree had once stood. She yanked the axe out of its place then raised it and let it fall deftly splitting the wood in two.

"Now you try." She said, handing him the axe and picking up another small log. Kicking her own example off the stump she set it upright and steadied it before stepping away and nodding that Ichigo could have a go.

Ichigo didn't want to get it wrong or appear timid so he stepped forwards, gripped the axe handle and raised it high. He brought it down.

_Thwack._

The log shattered.

Splinters shot in every direction, Rukia squeaked and threw up her arms to protect her eyes. Ichigo stumbled back dropping the tool.

At the same time they lowered their arms and looked at the remains.

"Well," said Rukia, "we can always use that one as kindling."

-----

Ichigo was now alone, chopping. He was getting pretty good. There was a large pile of wood next to him that he was going to take back to Rukia. She had headed back telling him she had 'things to do'. He could find his way back from here. It wasn't too far.

As he split the last log-whose two halves flew away from each other with a satisfying _crack!-_he decided he had enough and began to gather them up in his arms before balancing the axe on top and heading back through the trees. He looked around as he went, looking for signs of spring, but saw none. But he was going to keep an eye out. He wanted to catch it first chance he got.

The sound of the cottage door opening reached him and for a happy second he thought Rukia was coming to meet him. Then he heard voices, and not just that; a man's voice. He stopped then stepped behind a tree. Peering around, he saw a fairly tall man, not too old, with dark hair which came down to his shoulders, he was talking to Rukia who had a dark blue shawl around her shoulders and who was nodding a lot. Finally he bowed, and then looking around nervously turned and ran into the forest. Ichigo stayed hidden until Rukia closed the door then he stepped out with another unfamiliar emotion boiling in his stomach. One that was screaming,

"_Who? Who? Who?"_

Ichigo didn't know what jealousy was but he was sure as hell feeling it. It was frightening because he felt like he wanted to follow the man and...do something, something cruel and violent and tell him, _tell him, _to keep away from Rukia.

He shuddered and pressed his back against the nearest tree, he didn't want to feel that way at all. Instead he waited until he was sure the man wasn't coming back, then walked up to the door and opened it quietly. Inside Rukia leaned over something he hadn't noticed before, a trap door in the floor. He could see it held all sorts of things, food, material, bundles of herbs, a pestle and mortar and some glass boiling tubes. As he took in the sights of some labelled bags Rukia felt the air from the door and whirled around, nearly stepping in the pit.

"By God Ichigo!" she yelped, "What the hell are you doing? Don't sneak up on me that way!"

Ichigo scowled heavily and Rukia stepped back a little in fear. When he scowled that way the scars were noticeable; most definitely.

Without a word he threw the wood on the floor with a mighty clatter then turned and marched out the door. Before she could follow he had rounded the house, found the chimney and swung himself up onto the roof. Once up there he curled up and scowled at the sun as it skimmed the tree tops. It was chilly up here but he had decided he didn't care so he simply curled up and clenched his teeth as he heard the door open and Rukia come out after him.

"Ichigo," she called, and then she spied him, "Ichigo! Come down! What if you fall through the roof!"

Ichigo harrumphed and scowled as deep as he could.

"Ichigo!"

He was going to ignore her. He wasn't going to talk.

"Ichigo! Answer me! You big orange sasquatch!"

He spun around, wobbled a bit, and glowered down at her. But when he couldn't come up with anything to say, he turned back and wrapped his arms around his knees. It was later than he had thought, the sun was much lower in the sky and the clouds were starting to bleed pink.

"Ichigo."

Ichigo nearly fell off the roof.

Because suddenly she was up here too. Rukia was standing beside him, arms folded, with an eyebrow elegantly raised.

Ichigo's mouth opened and shut a few times then he turned away and looked at the sun, rolling lazily over the pine tips. Rukia sat down and shuffled up beside him.

"You know you can't have a tantrum every time I scold you. Sometimes you have to accept when you've-"

"Who was that man?" Ichigo interrupted, saying it in a rush.

There was silence beside him.

"What man?"

"The one I saw."

"There wasn't any-"

"Yes there WAS!"

Rukia jumped.

"Alright, well, he was just passing through."

"Then why were you talking to him, and why did you keep nodding?"

Ichigo's hands were gripped tightly in his trouser legs.

Rukia sighed. She guessed there was no real way of getting around it.

"I think you'd better come and see this."

He heard her rise and leave the roof, how, he wasn't sure, but she was gone, just as silently as she had come.

Ichigo could only sit still for a while longer before he heard the sound of singing from the open doorway. Then reluctantly rose, walked across to the roof edge and jumped down. He landed lithely, like a big cat, and straightened up, brushing himself down.

"In a field down by the river, my love and I did stand,  
And on my leaning shoulder, he laid his gentle hand.  
He bid me take life easy, as the grass grows on the weirs  
But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears."

She had a gentle sweeping voice that held him still. Occasionally the softest tremor shook it.

Then there was a gentle tap on the window and he saw Rukia there, one pale finger at the glass beckoning him in.

She smiled as he jumped and stared at her wide eyed, then started for the door. Inside the wood was still scattered around and Ichigo stepped around it, guiltily, keeping his eyes firmly on the floor. Rukia was rustling around by the table, arranging things he didn't dare look at. But finally she was waiting for him to turn to her, so he had no choice but to raise his eyes and look from under his lashes.

There were herbs and knives and stones beside a big bowl with a grinder in it, along the table edges there were many little bottles, waiting to. Rukia was standing beside it, her hands folded against her skirt.

"This is what I do Ichigo."

She paused and sighed, looking off to one side.

To a normal person, at this point, they might have seemed surprised or in the worst case, horrified, But Ichigo was not a normal person. Instead of leaving or looking horrified, he cocked his head to one side. Rukia knew the sign; it was the sign that he hadn't understood what she meant by showing him this.

"The wise woman. They call me a witch."

Ichigo did recognise this word.

"But witches are ugly."

"Perhaps that's why they call me it." She said, more to herself than to him.

"No," he assured, "No one could ever call you a witch."

Rukia smiled sadly and bitterly.

"I wasn't talking about the outside."

She blinked away her tears and coughed to stop her voice from sounding shaky.

"It's not without reason I suppose. I live alone out here, no man, people come and see me for remedies they don't understand and suddenly heal their ills. Men come out here more often, some looking for love potions to charm girls, then when I explain I don't sell them they try to charm me."

Ichigo looked frightened.

"So that man was-"

"Oh no!" Rukia cried, "That mans daughter is very sick. He needed a remedy. But his wife doesn't like me because my old mentor gave her brother poppy gum after he broke his arm falling out of a tree. But he became addicted and died of the affects."

"That's sad." Ichigo said softly.

"Yes, I suppose it is." She said gazing at him, a small smile on her face. "Some might say it was weakness."

Ichigo only looked at her, so she shrugged and gestured to the floor.

"Shall we tidy up?" she asked, "Then we can get a fire going for tonight."

Ichigo nodded softly and she smiled at him then picked up a log at her feet and brushed past him to set it in the fire.

Ichigo felt a shiver go through his body from where she had touched him and touched his other hand to his elbow where she had been.

-------

Rukia felt gritty all over, she hadn't bathed in a while, so she was filling the bath.

There was one problem.

Ichigo.

It was no use; she couldn't wait another day. It was too nasty. Besides she had already decided, she would just ask him not to look. And he would do as she asked.

The tin bath steamed as she unlaced her dress and pulled it off, letting her ribs expand in her linens. It was so lovely after a whole two days, to really breathe. It felt like letting go. Soft. Rukia stood on her toes, reaching up, and listened to her bones click. There was the sound of her door opening and closing. It was Ichigo with one more bucket which he put on the floor. He looked at her curiously at her in the white petticoat. Rukia shivered lightly and crossed her arms across her body to try and protect against the cold.

"You're having a bath?" he asked slowly.

"Well I would like to." She said as she smiled a little. "Would you mind?"

Ichigo shook his head but didn't move.

"Um, Ichigo, I would prefer it if you just sat on the bed while I did."

Ichigo shrugged at her then went and sat on the bed cross legged, still looking at her.

She sighed at him and shook her head.

"Ichigo, close your eyes."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want you to see my body."

"Why? What's wrong with it?"

Rukia looked confused.

"Nothing."

"Then why are you ashamed?"

"I'm not! Look Ichigo, it's just improper! So will you shut your eyes?"

Ichigo looked confused and his brow creased. Then he looked at her face again, thrown into half light and looking frustrated. He felt guilty at that point and so shut his eyes. Hearing the gentle sigh, and the rustle of her linens hitting the floor, Ichigo's eye cracked open, and shut tight again.

_Concentrate, eyes shut, concentrate._

The smell of the bath and her and the fire washed over him, the slosh and ripple of her stepping into the water. Ichigo's eye opened a little, it felt like breathing, the way they sort of _sighed _open, he really didn't mean to, he just needed to. Why? Oh...that was why.

The curve of her back was flawless and lovely, moving down into her buttocks. She was shaped like an 'S'. Smooth like the sound.

_I touched that curve, _thought Ichigo.

_Yeah but she smacked you when you did, _whispered another voice.

_But I still got to touch it._

Ichigo felt funny. His chest was all tight and his stomach bubbly. He felt like he needed to speak but he was sure if he opened his mouth words would come out in a jumble, either that or he would be sick. Besides, then she would know that he had peeked at her. Peeked. Peaked.

This was the best thing he had been allowed to watch, but why did he feel so ill?

Her legs appeared, propped up on the edge of the bath and Ichigo couldn't help but let his mouth release a little squeak.

"Ichigo?" her voice sounded lazy, and tired.

"I'm fine." He said in a voice that was far too high.

"You sure?" she asked and leaned around the edge of the bath.

"Yes." He said, sounding more resolute now that she was looking at him.

_Be brave, be brave._

He was frightened.

She smiled once and turned away; Ichigo let out a breath and sank back on the bed.

_Safer, safer not to see._

Ichigo's heart was knocking at his rib cage, when he saw...her... Ichigo couldn't understand. He felt like he wanted to push her over, why was that? He wanted to push her down and hug her and he wanted her to hug him back, he wanted to see what her skin tasted like. He felt like doing something wrong. So instead of thinking he rolled over and curled up. He squeezed his eyes tight to block out the _uncomfortable _situation he found himself in. Silently, he pressed his hands against his body and willed it to go away. He would not cry...

He would not cry.

-----

Rukia towel dried her hair as she approached the bed. Ichigo was curled up, sleeping soundly. Her white nightdress was sticking to her because her skin was still damp, but she didn't mind. The only problem was where she would sleep. The bath was on the hearth and Ichigo was in the bed. Rukia finished rubbing the tendrils of wet hair and gazed silently down at him. He was so innocent, the way he had been asking her why she was embarrassed was just so...childlike...virginal. It was sweet.

She chucked the towel at the back of the chair. What if he rolled on her? Well she'd notice, he'd notice. She'd be cold if she was anywhere else.

It was pitch black outside and the gold light of the leaping flames reflected on the glass of her little windows.

_Sod it! _she thought with a grin, she knelt on her bed and lay down next to Ichigo's curled form, wrapping one arm around his big body. He felt so tense and for the barest second she wondered why before he relaxed and leaned into her.

Rukia's heart swelled a little when she felt his heart beat against her hand.

_My sweet boy..._

Then her eyes fluttered and closed and drifted away, with a warm body and a heart beat under her fingers.

------

**What did you think?**

**And for those of you still floating in an ambiguous mist...Ichigo got a hard on. I didn't want to go into it too deep since -being a girl- I do not know what that feels like. But if anyone would care to tell me what it is like and what its like when one appears at an...ah...inopportune moment then that will be useful for future reference (plus I'm in need of a good laugh) XD**

**Again, sorry for my truly crap editing (or lack thereof) and any mistakes will eventually be corrected.**

**Please review again because it gave me such warm fuzzies last time (seriously, I was rolling around on my bed "squeeing" madly)**

**REVIEW PLEASE!!!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Dear God above she has updated.**

**Yeah, I stalled for time on Grown Ups because I wanted to work on this. Then decidedly failed on working at this. Oops. Well at least there is some activity here. I think the folks over at DA are lighting their torches as we speak.**

**But until then, on with the show!**

**Don't own Bleach, unless at some stage I figure out a plan to seduce KT and persuade him to put Rukia back in again. Anyone else excited about the manga, actually? Shit is finally going down! I am a little ashamed to say that I screamed when the big reveal happened XD I have been waiting for that moment now for about a year! And then Ichigo consciously imitated Rukia by not asking about it which was a bit of an 'aww' moment.**

**I just read back over that and if you haven't read the manga recently, it's going to mean bugger all to you ;)**

**Oh and if you're a reader who's already reviewed a previous chapter, review again! I like your input, you shape the fic!**

**Edit: Yeah, I re-uploaded :) But I found one typo that was really really annoying me. And I'm not telling you where or what because you'll think I'm silly. Anyway, I'm hoping and praying that the reviews don't get deleted because its different, but I know you can't review a replaced chapter twice so hopefully not.**

-----

When Ichigo woke up he was very aware of a small, warm arm over his body. It was cosy in the cottage because of the fire embers. The bath was still sat in the hearth where it had been last night.

Last night.

Oh Gods.

Ichigo sat up, Rukia's arm flying off him and pressed himself to the wall, but Rukia-who was turning out to be a remarkably heavy sleeper-only snuffled and tucked her hand under her pillow. She looked more childish like this. He reminded her of Ururu a little-but of course she was tougher than his adopted sister and more beautiful, and most definitely not related to him. Well no one was related to him really. This thought made Ichigo feel sad and thoughts of Rukia began to slip even as he stared down at her. She could be a beautiful and kind and wonderful as she was, and still be millennia away from him because no one could be any closer than she was right now.

He watched her nose twitch, then her arm slowly slid towards him, seeking her lost warmth. Ichigo shuffled away, nervously. But she only moved closer as he tried to press himself against the wall. The inch by inch game of cat and mouse continued Ichigo felt his eyebrows crease and he started becoming slightly annoyed. She was getting too close for comfort. He didn't want to be touched. It was like when Miss Yoruichi came and draped herself all over him which gave him uncomfortable feelings. Whenever she had done that he had always shrunk away from her while she teased him but that was because she was Urahara's guest and he always promised to 'punish her, severely' for scaring Ichigo in such a way.

Although, Ichigo recalled, Yoruichi never seemed too worried, in fact she used to smile, with a grin that made her look nothing if a little feline.

It had led Ichigo to believe that Urahara never had punished her in any way and that had always annoyed him because if he did something wrong he was told off. Rukia's hand grasped his trousers on his thigh and shunted quickly towards him, snuggling her face against the fabric. Ichigo had had enough, he grasped her by the shoulders and pushed her back.

But of course a seven foot, seven month old assembly of body parts rarely knows his own strength.

Rukia's small body rolled away. Ichigo didn't see until he heard the thump and the cry of surprise. Then he saw a pair of milk white legs still on the bed while the rest of Rukia lay on the floor. He peeked over the mattress and saw her, with wild hair and a disgruntled look on her face, staring up at him.

"Ichigo!" she cried as he leaned over her.

"I didn't do it!" he snapped back indignantly.

"Like hell, you didn't." She returned furiously, then blushed and shoved her nightdress down her legs from where it had pooled around her thighs.

"I didn't, you fell out!" he shouted and turned around, to cross his arms and throw himself down on the bed. He didn't want her to know he had accidentally pushed her off. Hearing her rise, muttering furiously he curled up and scowled violently at the wall, embarrassment and blame boiled in his head, making his ears ring.

_Stupid midget. _He thought and shut his eyes.

------

Rukia looked back over her shoulder as she opened the window shutters; Ichigo was curled up in a sulk. She hadn't exactly felt him push her she just had a feeling that he had done it. And she knew she wasn't wrong. There was something in his eyes as he peered at her from the bed, slightly surprised and guilty. From that she knew he probably hadn't intended to do what he had but he had done it anyway and his first instinct had been to deny it.

The stagnant water in the bath tub was giving off a weird smell and she glanced at the cloudy water with a grimace. It was that unpleasant metallic smell of an old pond and she suddenly regretted leaving it the night before. She glanced back at Ichigo. Well, he had to pull his weight.

She walked over to him and rubbed his shoulder, whispering his name. His eyes were closed so she bent down and kissed his neck pressing her lips to the curve of muscle that ran up from his shoulders to just below his ear. He stirred and she took the opportunity to whisper in his ear.

"Ichigo, time to get up now, I don't care about the-" she checked herself, "about falling out of bed."

She moved away and picked up her shawl from the back of the chair wrapping it around her shoulders, against the morning chill.

------

Ichigo had frozen in bed, he wasn't cold, instead he was heating up from the inside. He had a kiss! She didn't mind, and she had given him a kiss. He sat up and looked at her. She was unwrapping some cheese. The smell drifted across, strong even from the table but she didn't even wrinkle her nose. She was so calm all the time, he had pushed her and she didn't care one jot.

Ichigo felt something spark in his chest as what could almost be described as pain shot through his chest and a steady drumming filled his ears.

_Lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub._

He tossed the covers back off his legs and stood up. He had the inexplicable urge to walk over to her and pull her into his lap or just run in circles, laughing like an idiot, but he doubted she would like that and so instead he simply passed her by, picking up the bucket, and opened the door to go outside to the pump.

Rukia heard the door go and smiled.

------

Ichigo had underestimated the outside temperature and shivered as he walked towards the pump. The first birds were singing in the half-light while the sounds of animals just going to sleep, their night calls to each other still rang through the trees.

Ichigo heard a screeching sound and followed it closely while he put the bucket by the pump. It came again while he was watching the tree line, twice in quick succession and he laughed.

Cupping hand to mouth he screeched through them and imitated the call, there was a moment's silence, then the creature replied with a conciliatory cry. Ichigo laughed again and sent two back, his call quick becoming an almost perfect imitation. Finally the shouts from his new friend stopped and he was left with his bucket.

------

Rukia watched from the window as Ichigo called to the woods and felt a creeping feeling in her stomach; she smiled and crossed her arm across her chest, palm over her heart to feel it beating.

May God have struck her down, if she wasn't actually feeling...hopeful.

Rukia shivered in her shift and glanced down at her body. She needed clothes; it was far too cold that morning to be walking around in bare feet and linen. But as she glanced out the window she saw Ichigo making his way back, water sloshing over the rim of the bucket and sighed.

------

They sort of skirted each other that morning. Comfortable silence pervaded her home as she tidied, something that Rukia enjoyed greatly, it made such a nice change from the cold solitary silence she usually had. You're supposed to be able to hear all the sounds of the forest, animals, the wind, sometimes just the sound of the trees _breathing, _that's what they used to say back home,but more often than not, Rukia heard nothing but the sounds of her ailing cottage and her own movements. It had been quite lonely and she wondered how she had never been able to label it as that before. She supposed, 'familiarity breeds comfort' so if she was used to being alone that made it more noticeable when she...wasn't.

Ichigo's body was massive. That much was certain, but his presence was small like a little boy, a petulant one at times, but still a child. Because of his huge size she had to keep reminding herself of what he was. It was getting easier at least.

He was just a little boy.

------

Ichigo was sat in front of the fire, staring carefully at the chimney. If he had moved in the last six minutes then Rukia had missed it. With his chin in his hand, supporting elbow at his knee he gazed languidly at the fire. It must have been hurting his eyes. Rukia never had got on well with fire.

Ukitake used to say that it just 'wasn't her element'.

There was a light hiss as a twig split and tumbled to its fate.

"Rukia?" said a voice.

Rukia looked at the curved back, hunched over, blocking the fire.

"Yes."

"Should there be bits of wood and stone falling down the chimney?"

Rukia turned fully to look at him.

"No there shouldn't."

"Oh."

"Is there?"

"What?"

"Are there bits of wood and stone falling down the chimney?"

"Yes."

"Damn."

She rose and made her way outside, looking up at the roof she huffed, realising that she was going to have to climb up there. It had been tricky enough getting Ichigo down yesterday, the footholds were not as new as they used to be.

She felt him before he spoke and turned around, almost smacking nose-first, into his bare chest. He was also staring up enquiringly.

"There must be something stuck in your chimney pot." He said knowledgably and Rukia smirked.

"That's what I thought. I need to get up there."

Ichigo looked down at her.

"Do you need me to-"

"Oh Gods, Ichigo, no. I can do it myself."

Her tone was exasperated but her eyes were kind, and Ichigo found he didn't mind getting things wrong this time around. But she had turned back around and was swinging around on those jutting blocks, and he was sure that she was going to fall so he decided to do something about it.

If you can help, you ought to.

Rukia felt a pair of hands on her waist and found herself winded as the arms they were attached to, easily lifted her away from the wall. They then slung her over a shoulder and she was immediately eye to eye with the base of Ichigo's spine.

"Ichigo!" she shouted but he hadn't heard or wasn't listening, but scaling the side of the house. When they were up, he lifted her off his shoulder and smiled at her. She gazed at him dumbly, then found she could do nothing but roll her eyes.

Instead of scolding him, a waste of time, she gathered her skirts and picked her way around the chimney stack. Immediately she spied the problem, nestled inside the round top of the chimney pot, it was a feathered one.

"Oh damn."

Of course this had to be more difficult than necessary. The stupid bird. If it had been in the nest at the time then Rukia would have done something unpleasant to it. Fortunately for the creature, all that remained of it was a few brown feathers and a single blue speckled egg.

"What's that?" asked Ichigo, coming up behind her and leaning over her head.

"A bird's nest."

She felt the intake of breath.

"Don't touch it, or the mother might not come back."

Rukia sighed, so it was going to be much more difficult than it really needed to be.

"I need to Ichigo, its damaging the chimney and by the looks, the mother hasn't been here for a while."

"You can't know that."

Rukia knew it didn't really matter one way or the other, the nest had to go, but she knew as well she would try hard to make him understand this first.

"Ichigo. I know its sad, but we need to move it."

His eyes fell.

"But the egg."

"We could keep it. I'll show you how to blow the shell."

Ichigo's eyes bounced back up to hers, a strong scowl overtook his face and for a moment Rukia saw that the look he wore was of repugnance.

"No? Alright then, I'll just get rid of it."

But Ichigo grabbed her wrist.

"I'll move it." he snapped and stepping past her with a lightness of foot, a creature like him should not possess, he scooped the nest out in one hand and cradled the whole thing against his chest as he crossed to the roof edge and descended. Rukia watched him, open mouthed as he walked towards the woods, over mulchy leaves.

The snap of a twig had her head spin around so fast that she could have sworn a second crack came from her neck.

"Oh no."

On the other side of the clearing, on the opposite side to the one Ichigo had left from-was the very same man from yesterday. Rukia looked back over her shoulder but Ichigo was out of sight. Her stomach lurched nervously but with a measure of relief. They were walking a knife edge here. It was a miracle that he hadn't seen Ichigo yesterday. Quickly she picked her way towards the end of the thatch, and waved madly, first order was to make sure that he didn't round the house.

"Go on inside, I'll come down."

He looked up, a mildly surprised look on his face, to see her on the roof but he didn't argue.

-------

As the man walked for the door he glanced up again, but she was staring towards the woods and didn't see. He followed her gaze but could only see a couple of long tall birch trees, before the woods closed over the sky and man gave way to nature. He supposed that the witch could venture in there. Perhaps she had a familiar to guide her, an animal spirit, her soul manifesting in carnal form.

Involuntarily, he shivered. He needed to do this. If he could just do this, then his wife would be happy, and his children provided for. Or so he had been promised. Just confirmation of who she was, perhaps a description or a relic from her home. Quickly he walked around the house and looked from shelf to shelf, a stone anything like the ones he had been shown and that was it; that was all the deception that need take place. If he couldn't he would just have to figure out a way to get her to the village for a while, so that someone else could confirm just who she was.

"Hello,"

He turned on the spot to see her standing in the doorway, silhouetted against the noonday sun, bright and gold in contrast with the gloomy-by-comparison cottage. He stared guiltily at her, wondering if he looked, as he suspected, just like a rabbit caught in the crosshairs of a gun. But she was looking at him benignly so perhaps she hadn't seen him. He swallowed the tight fear in his throat and made his face polite and to an extent, friendly.

"Hello, what were you doing on the roof?"

"Bird's nest in the chimney."

"Oh, I could get it out for you if you like."

"Oh no, don't worry, it's taken care of."

He nodded, watching as she glanced worriedly over her shoulder out of the nearest window. It actually had glass, that he was surprised about, his wife badgered him for the finer things he couldn't provide but this little girl, _witch_ he reminded himself hastily, had it, without so much as a single trip to the coast in as long as he could remember. She was biting her lip still ignoring him so he coughed lightly to regain her eye and she leapt to attention, staring at him like she had forgotten her invitation to her home. She looked nervous to have him there.

"Is something wrong?"

"No!" she said, too quickly. In her slightly yellowing apron, her hands had balled into fists. "Um, you needed more of the same, right?" she eyed him with a mixture of concern and forced concentration, "How did she take the last lot?"

He jumped himself this time, remembering his ill daughter, an intense fever gained by going out in a storm blown inland from the ocean.

"Quite well, she's improving."

The witch relaxed a little and she smiled very quickly, suddenly he felt his heart lighten and flutter, she was a beautiful thing, if he wasn't married...

But as she brushed past him he felt the excitement turn to nausea, like his stomach was twisting over on itself. There, that must be why they said she was a witch. She tripped a little on her way to the shelves, but regained her balance with ease before reaching up and picking a small bottle, containing something the same colour as the remedy she had given him yesterday and one speckled feather.

"Here," she said, with a sigh like sound, "There should be enough there for a while, and a charm for a faster recovery. You can have that for free, just hang it around her neck, it should protect her from sickness for a while, but tell her not to go out in the rain without a cape again." From her lips it sounded like a duty but she pressed the feather on him anyway.

His mouth opened but he couldn't think of anything to say,

"I, um-thank you."

"Don't worry about it."

She turned around and untied her apron laying it over the back of the chair.

"Um, I'm sorry ma'am."

"Kuchiki," she supplied, "and why?"

"I-I don't have the money to pay you now."

Her eyebrows creased and he felt his stomach lurch again, although he wondered if that was just because he was telling himself he should be nervous. She didn't look _that_ scary. Not really.

"But I can give you something else!" he filled in quickly as she made to move towards him. Or so he assumed by the way she squared her stance.

"Like what?" she asked, looking through narrowed eyes.

"Um, anything, if you would come to my home tomorrow or another day, I could give you some root vegetables or some cured meat. Perhaps I could have my wife make you a dress."

Something in her eyes sparked and she took a step towards him.

"If you could, then I need something made especially the right size."

She turned back to her shelves again, skirt swinging along the well swept floor, and pulled down a small leather bound notebook on the end, leaning against a jug. There was a small pencil stuck between the spine and the papers which she pulled out and pushed behind her ear while she flicked through, looking for a page that was free of scribbles and burn-marks or stains.

"I need something specific. If I could get measurements to you, do you think that your wife could make something for me? That can be your payment, no extra charge."

The man was astounded. She hadn't declined. In fact she was willing to come in to the village on her own and see him, considering the animosity towards her in general this was a wonderful turn of events. He didn't have to steal anything. She was scratching out a note in the book, before she tucked the pencil back in place and snapped it closed.

She looked back up at him and he caught his breath because she was suddenly smiling kindly and he was positive now that he didn't want to lie to her, but he had caught her favour, intentionally or not and he didn't want to lose it. If only he hadn't already agreed to what he was doing.

She had replaced her notebook on the shelf now, and turned around with a smile. As he brushed past her he felt his stomach get caught in that unpleasant grip again, but it was only one tenth of what it had been before. He noticed too, he could look down on the top of her head as she passed and realised that unless she had some magic then he would be able to overpower her easily, and he wasn't sure she even had that kind of spell in her arsenal. He felt at once, both smug about this and a little silly for being so nervous, but it didn't matter either way, if they were on pleasant terms.

A witch as an ally, no one in the village would dare cheat him at a price now.

She was standing the doorway now, arms crossed, waiting for him to leave and he hurried towards her quickly. She seemed to draw in on herself and he slowed down, but only for a moment before he decided he had imagined it. He stood before her, clutching his charm and remedy in one hand.

"It's a paste, rub it on her chest at night and put some in her tea to drink, but not too much."

He looked down at her, she looked very unintimidating now, and she was just too tiny to be dangerous. Moving his feather to the other hand, he held out a hand to shake. For a moment, her face was blank as a piece of paper, uncomprehending, but then, realising her mistake, she shook out her dark hair with a smile and took his hand. There was only the slightest turn of his stomach this time as her small, cool, white fingers slid into his. How odd, he thought, that she shouldn't even have any calluses.

"Rukia!"

It took only a second, but the young woman's face turned ghastly white, physically bloodless as she looked at a point beyond his left shoulder. Her grip became like a clamp on his hand and he actually gasped at it's strength, strength he had assumed she wouldn't possess, and therefore written off. He began to turn and see the originator of the voice but she grasped his shoulder and pulled him back. She did not meet his eyes as she spoke to the person behind him but had her gaze fixed on a point a good foot or so about his head.

"Ichi-" she stopped herself, "Please go out around the back." And she shot whoever 'Ichi' was a look that clearly said, 'do not argue'.

Silence, no sound of footsteps.

"Ichi...go." She ground out through a clenched jaw her fine eyes, flashing. She still had a hardy grip on her customer's hand seconded by her hold on his arm.

A beat. Then footsteps moving around the back of the house.

Another moment passed, and her eyes closed briefly and her grip lessened enough for him to wiggle her fingers. When her eyes did reopen, she fixed him with a charming smile, but one that didn't reach her opalescent eyes. It was a fixed smile, the sort he saw on the 'better off' daughters of the village but somehow far more refined than theirs. While they would appear flirtatious, she was cool and collected.

"Thank you for your custom. I will come to your home the day after tomorrow and deliver your wife the measurements."

"The day after tomorrow?"

"Yes, it is most convenient for me."

He waited but she didn't elaborate, just stood there blinking at him, cool, somewhat unnerving smile, still in place, when did her eyes get that icy quality? He glanced behind him but there was no one there. The owner of the voice had gone. Quite suddenly, a breeze picked up around them and tugged on a few errant strands of her hair, especially that long one between her eyes. It sent such a chill through him that he quickly detached his hand from hers; stretching out his fingers like he had an itch he couldn't scratch.

"Did you have something else that you needed?"

And her speech had become unsettlingly formal. Not the easy tone she had greeted him with.

"Er, no."

"Good, day after tomorrow then?"

"Yes."

She smiled and stepped back. He took this as his cue to leave, and he took a few sideways steps before he got up the courage to turn his back completely. The only thing that stopped him from running was the feather he grasped in one fist, was the feather he was naive enough to believe would protect him from the wrath of a witch.

------

Rukia watched him go, she stayed tight in her place and did not move, even though her legs felt like they were straining to run and run to Ichigo and hold him tight.

She waited until he had gone beyond the tree line then let out a shuddering breath the one she had been holding since that last 'yes'. It was all going perfectly, of course until Ichigo had come around the corner. The three of them in such close quarters and she was sure in that moment her heart had stopped. If he had turned...

She didn't want to think about it.

Deception or ill-will.

When she had brushed past him in the house she had felt her wards flare. It had knocked her off balance for a moment, like she had suddenly been blasted by a hot wind and punched in the head at the same time, not hard, but still, punched. She recovered quickly though, in time, she hoped that he hadn't noticed her trip. She had felt sick for the few seconds it took for the magic to settle but after that...

The only thing was, as he kept touching her, brushes and finally the hand shake, the flares had lessened. Like he was changing his mind. And he had been normal yesterday, just a worried father.

She felt herself begin to shake and bend over slightly, breathing hard. Great, a panic attack, of course she gets it when the danger has passed, that's just typical. But it was better than letting her composure slip when he was still there. Actually she was quite proud that she had stayed so calm. It just goes to show, her old lessons hadn't been knocked out of her. Composure and control.

Suddenly a bright orange head peeked around the edge of the house and looked at her.

"Ichigo," she sighed, her chest still hurting a little as she straightened up. "I'm sorry that I had to-"

"It's alright," he said, with a sad smile, he stared at the dead leaves under his feet kicking at them lightly, "I need to hide quite a lot."

He looked a little sheepish.

"I shouldn't have come around the corner."

In that moment Rukia felt her mask break, her vision swam a little and she forced the tears back down.

"You didn't know, it's okay," she said hoarsely, hoping he wouldn't hear her voice crack, "Did you find somewhere to put the egg?"

He smiled at that and Rukia found it hard not to smile with him.

"Yeah, I found another nest."

"Really?" She was surprised, "How did you do that?"

A dark look overtook him then. "I've spent a lot of time in the woods."

"Oh of course," there was a moment, where the pause was almost awkward, he continued to stare at the floor while she had her arms crossed, but then he looked up, excited about something.

"I found something!" he cried, "I forgot! I need to show you!" And he seized her hand, pulling her away in the woods. Then he was yanking her towards the tree line. "Come on!"

He turned and ran faster, almost dragging her behind him, she had to seize her skirts in one hand to keep them above her ankles and stumbled once or twice before she began relying on his hand and settling to the rhythm of his strides. She began to feel more and more like a child with every step running for the hell of it. They passed the bleached bones of trees, countless, the dark stripes marking their trunks look like they had been wrapped in ribbons.

Early in the year the forest always looked so dead; it comprised of three colours, white, brown (in varying shades) and black. They passed masses of them, all repeating their pattern over and over until Rukia felt quite dizzy, then Ichigo leapt over a log and landed with a shake of the ground around him, in a deep patch of mulched up leaves, they buried him up to his ankles. Rukia declined stepping down, it probably would have consumed her shins and that meant bugs getting up her skirt, instead she balanced on the fallen log. They weren't even in a clearing. Around them the trees stood like pillars, their long spidery limbs reaching for the grey sky, bare of leaves, like a web, tangling and weaving together in places, parting in others. The sun light streamed through the mass of branches, cold and white, a winter's day.

"Look," urged Ichigo, tugging on her hand. Rukia looked and saw; a new colour. Purple. The tremulous little bells of snow drop flowers.

They ringed the base of the biggest tree in the vicinity, amassed at the base like children playing ring-a-roses. They _were_ the children in the forest world of adult trees, because they were new. They were in the spring.

-------

He didn't know why he had stopped. He didn't need to. It was so unnecessary, he had all he needed. She was coming to the village and she had said her name was Kuchiki. That was all, there was nothing else required of him.

Yet here he was crouching behind a ridge topped by a few wild tangles of shrubbery, watching the house he had just left, while the witch stood outside, staring at the spot he had disappeared from. Luckily for him he had moved a good twenty or so feet to the right of where he had sunk into the trees, he wasn't the best poacher in town for nothing. He knew how to hide.

She leaned over slightly, like she was about to vomit, and clutched a hand to the front of her dress. Then something appeared around the side of the house. A movement, a sound, then...

Lord in heaven.

-------

Ichigo sat at the table with his head on his arms. He stared at the two snow drops in a tiny little bottle at its centre and sighed.

So this was the start of spring.

It was the same colour as her eyes.

He had objected when she had picked one of the flowers but she had pointed out the many more that were left to bloom and cut one away from its fellows with a little silver knife, she had paused, and then chosen another.

"There," she said, "now it won't be lonely." And she had turned and begun the walk home.

Ichigo listened to her bustling around behind him, making dinner. He had offered to help and she had let him peel some long green, strong smelling vegetables and carrots she had in the store under the floor. But he was finished now and she had bid him just sit down, because she needed to move easily. For a while he had been a little miffed but then had become preoccupied with the flowers and was sat only in quiet study.

Finally his eyes drifted out of the window, to the large clearing around the house. He could imagine now, where the pump was from here, to the left of the front door, not far from the corner of the house, but out a little. Its stone trough waiting for water that he would bring forth. On the opposite side, on the right were the brambles he had hidden behind when he had first seen the light from the house. Their little house of grey stone with a thatched roof, Ichigo smiled as his eyes fluttered closed. Their home. It was sunken into the ground and discoloured from age, it needed a fire going at all times, the door creaked or stuck and Rukia had to kick it a few times to make sure it moved. There was an odd smell emitting from the store hole, Rukia wasn't sure what, and these chairs by all accounts looked far too delicate to hold him up for a long time.

But Ichigo was in love with this place, and he proved it by drifting off to sleep at the table as Rukia made their dinner.

------

The man in front of him was swigging at the ale he had been bought.

By comparison to his fellow he was a pale thing with a haunted hollow look, he put down the tankard only to wipe his mouth with his sleeve then picked it right back up again. When he was finally done he slammed it down on the table top, others able to see that his cheeks were a little too pink and eyes too bright, but so long as he was still conscious his companion didn't care.

The drinker's mysterious counterpart had kept his hood up in the bar, the only part of him visible were his hands, which were clasped on the table. He had good reason; his appearance in these parts was memorable. Already his hands had garnered a few curious looks.

"Did you do as was asked?" he asked from beneath the hood, quite deep so that no one could eavesdrop. It was better than whispering, which was no better than glorified hissing; but, of course, that was exactly what his informant did, leaning forward conspicuously even in the rowdy warmth of the bar. His breath reeked of alcohol, but the man did not lean away. Still the informant glanced around as he cupped a hand to his mouth.

"I saw her yeah, her name is Kutch-k-ki," he hiccupped, "Tiny thing, black hair, big blue eyes, or purple. Depends which way you look."

"Yes, you said that yesterday," said the hooded man, only a hint of annoyance in his voice, "But the name is enough."

"Oh but she's coming to my home day after yesterday-tomorrow!" he said with indignance, "Do you know what my wife will do when I tell her that? Don't say it was for nothing."

His fellow shifted under the hood.

"It doesn't matter. All we required was a name, description and confirmation of location."

He looked disheartened at the words but then his face turned triumphant and yet frightened.

"I have something else for you!"

It didn't faze him when he was ignored, instead he hissed drunkenly, "She's not alone out there," his voice went up in pitch and he shuddered, "God above, I don't know what it is. It's not a man, it can't be,"

He could hear the tremor in the man's voice and hoped he wouldn't have to knock him out if he made a scene.

"Oh it's eyes," he wailed, suddenly banging his head, quite hard, on the pitted table top, his tone changing as he spoke, "they were yellow; horrible, watery, yellow eyes. And its face was white like its body! It looked like something that had slithered out of the grave with these deep scars all over it, red and puckered, I'm sure it was holding it together. And it moved all ungainly!" he did a violent impression, twitching in his chair, before he reached out and seized the edge of the man's cloak, "Like it was unbalanced, like it hadn't walked until then."

He cried out, fisting his other hand in his hair. "I pray I never lay my eyes on that thing again."

The hooded companion carefully removed the unwelcome grip from the edge of the cloak with one dark skinned hand, and then brushed the patch off before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a money bag. He threw it on the table and it landed with a clink.

For a moment the pale man came out of his self induced torrent of self-pity and grabbed at the bag. He weighed it and frowned.

"Hey you promised me more than this!"

But the dark man was standing up and pulling at his cloak to straighten it. Then the man made a grave mistake and made a clumsy grab at the retreater's arm, an arm that he soon found pinned to the table while another hand clamped around his throat. It squeezed with surprising strength considering the fine quality he had thought he saw in the fingers. That was the second time he had been caught out like that today.

"You drank the rest of it," came a sharp voice from under the cloak, anger showing through for the first time, then his fingers met the cord around the other's throat and ran down until he felt something soft tied to it.

"What is that?"

The pale man grinned stupidly, "A charm, the witch gave it to me for my daughter, but when I got in she looked at it and gave it right back. Love that she is, said, 'You have it Dad, you look like you need it more than me.' Clever girl, mine." He lapsed into happy silence, apparently forgetting the hand around his throat, maybe under the delusion that that feather was protecting him.

Under his cloak the man's lip curled and he sneered openly before shoving the man back by the neck into the seat of the booth. He fell back and hit the wall with a thump, but didn't even seem to jar him, perhaps he was too far gone. Either way it mattered not. He knew he would never come across the man again.

Walking away from the booth across the floor towards the door, he wove amongst the tables, nodding towards keeper. The man behind it narrowed his eyes a little but let him go. Not that he could have stopped him. It amused the hooded man a little that the aging, sallow thing had been fingering the unwieldy gun he kept under the counter, when he would have been dead before he could even reach for it. With one last sweep of the bar, he breathed his last lungful of the noxious scents before stepping out into the cool night and heading down the street, his purse lighter but with the information he needed.

_The Master will be pleased, _he thought as he went sweeping into the night.

Meanwhile, inside the bar another cloaked figure stood up at his corner booth and began to pick his way through the tables, he nodded too, at the man behind the bar, who rolled his eyes-really was his place just a honey-trap for freaks tonight?-and sat down opposite the man slumped in his seat, staring forlornly into an empty tankard.

"What do you want now? I already told you everything," he moaned clutching the money he had been given close to his chest.

The other chuckled, "Oh, you mistake me friend. I just thought you could use the company."

This time the rumpled man eyed his compatriot and saw, to his surprise that the man was in fact a different one. He was larger, much larger, for he could see muscles bulging from his shoulders through the cloak he wore and the parts he could see of his jaw were also square, unlike the pointed chin he had glimpsed before. That and his voice was kind.

"I watched you get er... short changed."

The man laughed wearily at that, "Yeah, s'what I get for being dishonest, cheaters get cheated."

The man said nothing, but reached inside his cloak instead and produced a bag about half full of money, more or less exactly like the one that had been exchanged minutes before.

"Now I can top you up," began the hooded one, "On two conditions, the first is you drink no more, and when we are done then you go home to your family," he waited until he got a nod, "the second is you tell me _everything_ that you just told my friend that left, including what he asked of you in the first place and not omitting something I heard about a monster. How about that?"

"I say that's just fine," said the fellow suddenly sitting up with a lopsided grin and looking altogether more alert, "And the name is Asano. Where do you want me to start?"

-------

**Yeah, sort of failed to mention that it was monstrously long, didn't I? It was nearly 7,000 words at the last count. I will need to go and nurse my repetative strain injury now.**

**Who guessed that Keigo was Keigo? I must admit I didn't turn him into Keigo until the final scene began and even then I wasn't sure. But yes, that is Keigo and yes some woman was crazy enough to marry him and bare his children *shudders***

**Question no.2: Who wants to take a guess at who the two hooded wonders are? The first is fairly obvious but I will be interested to see who gets the second right.**

**Hopefully it won't take me so long next time, touch wood, *strokes desk, then does it once more for good measure***

**Remember to review, the more reviews the quicker I update. We've had roughly 20 per chapter so far, shall we make that the aim again? I think so.**


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